Happy time, a long stream of water

Before I got up, I heard the "rustling" sound of leaves outside and the "snapping" sound of falling to the ground. Stealing from the curtains, the wind slid gently across my warm hands, and a ray of morning sun hit the wallpaper mountain covered with purple chrysanthemums by my bed. I can no longer resist the initiation of my heart. Although the quilt can retain my lazy body, it can not keep a heart that wants to embrace the world.

Coming out of the room that had been accumulated all night, the cool air rushed towards me like a flood. I shivered coldly and shook off the remaining drowsiness. Sure enough, live up to my heart, the eyes is a vast blue sky, pouring down, like hanging a boundless blue tarp. There is no flaw, no embellishment, blue so transparent, so neat, so soft. If heaven and earth can be inverted at this time, if heaven and earth are inverted and there is no gravity, I can fall down, shout, wander and dance. Roam freely on the sails of the wind.

The blue sky is bright, but the earth is happy. Endless pedestrians, running cars, chattering birds. Twittering, jabbering, doodling, what kind of song is it? Yomo is the symphony of "Morning" played by erhu, saxophone and piccolo. Time flows through this beautiful music, from the train of a girl who is holding her boyfriend humming love songs and indulging in romance in the air of romance, or striding in twos and threes or carrying books or carrying schoolbags or walking with breakfast while chatting about yesterday's celebrity gossip. There is dignified and soothing tai chi music fluttering on the green grass lawn, and every movement of the old man changes in harmony between movement and stillness. The passion and excitement of the nearby aunt dancing in the square reconcile the classicality and stillness of Tai Chi. Bathed in the morning sun with the scent of flowers, through the bustling crowd, step up, into another broader world. This is the ocean of knowledge, the hall of learning and the repository of wisdom.

The time here is quiet. Looking ahead, some wrote at their desk, some stood up to read, some frowned and thought. They have different postures and different expressions. The sound of flipping books from time to time is like the dripping sound of the eaves after the autumn rain. Psst-I saw a breath of peace above their heads, which could not have been seen. I was able to see because I was shaken by their contemplative manner and saw the value of human beings. People are valuable because they can think. Such qi is extraordinary, pure and sacred. People who come here for the first time will feel that there is an invisible impact to stop you, do not dare to move forward, the heart is empty, ashamed. When you sit down for a while, the filth, vulgarity, fawning spirit, evil spirit and evil spirit will dissolve away. I step out silently in every movie for fear of disturbing the tranquil and peaceful spirit.

Walking between the bookshelf and the bookshelf, I feel like a happy fish, swimming in the sea of books. My eyes are like a treasure lamp at the bottom of the sea, ready to shine on the treasure. The volume is so numerous that it makes me dazzled and dizzy. No wonder Mr. Shen Congwen entered the library and stood in front of the shelves of books. "seeing so many people writing so many books, I really don't want to write anything," he said. Aah! It is so vast that everyone is afraid of it. I happened to find a favorite book somewhere in a dark corner. She was found thousands of times in the crowd, but the book was found in a place where no one was interested. I was glad to find it in my heart. Knowing that she had been waiting for me for many years before brewing this glimpse. Squeezing her in the hand, I looked at it carefully and felt a deep sense of regret. Alas! I was still late, yellowing color, unfamiliar marks, distant smell, how many people she had experienced before she met me. Let bygones be bygones, let bygones be bygones, find a beautiful window, talk to you about the past, talk about the universe, sages and sages, wind and rain dynasties, and out-of-domain customs. Endless people, endless things, endless ages and the present, can not help but raise their hands to hold tears, quite late to see each other.

The library takes an hour and the world passes through the day. I was in the sun just now, but now it's sunset. Here time does not seem to turn in seconds, does not flow in time. Time is between bowing and looking up, just as life is a whole past between opening and closing eyes. I sniffed to Lao Tuan, asked Freud to interpret the dream, listened to Pu Songling tell stories, made tea for Lu Yu, looked at Galileo's telescope, and asked Tagore to read poems. First go to the Republic of Bailitu to have a look at the debate of wisdom, then go to Mo Yan's northeast village of Gaomi to see the shitty purgatory on earth, then go to Shen Congwen's border town to enjoy the beautiful and simple ancient city of Phoenix, and then go on to Kafka's castle to explore. In the journey of reading, no one knows the next stop, so there is no last, and do not want to have the end, just let it go on and on and Every time I finish reading a book, I must be in a daze for a long time. I don't think about anything, and I don't think about anything. As Laozi said, I don't want anything, and I seem to think about everything. Looking up slightly, he looked at the painstaking person solemnly, just as the Bodhisattva looked at all living beings. A feeling of compassion arises in my heart, and there is also an impulse to shout out to heaven and earth. At this time, every pore and every cell of the body is flowing with the liquid of happiness, emitting the breath of happiness. My eyes are filled with the light of happiness, I look at the world when I am happy, the world is naturally happy, but the world can not realize my happiness, such happiness belongs to a person's loneliness.

The moon is bright and the stars are thin, and the lights are dim. The librarian eagerly urged me to leave reluctantly and unsatisfactorily, leaving the wider world. Standing on the steps, the poet's posture, the philosopher's eyes, looked up at the deep and charming starry sky tonight, and thoughts floated slowly from all directions. Suddenly a beam of streamer passed across the silent night sky, and I knew that the happy time of the day passed away like a streamer across the night sky and would never come back. I have to look forward to the bright morning when I open my eyes tomorrow.

In a happy time, there is a long stream.

Author: Cai Ke